“And it is. Exclusively. You have a great story to tell. There’s romance and suspense, along with the glitz and drama of the music world.” She places her pen down. “But sex sells. You know that better than anyone. And the parts of your story that most people already know heavily revolve around what happened between the sheets with you two and Sean. So, whether you like it or not, that night is going to need to be part of the project. We can’t leave it out.”
I keep staring. Glaring.
I hate what that night did to Sidney. To my friendship with Sean, too.
Everything between us became messed up for a long time all because we decided the best way to celebrate a Grammy win was with a fucking three-way.
No. Because I decided I didn’t want to wake up the next morning without a goddamn souvenir.
“It won’t be sordid,” she promises. “I’ll make sure it’s classy. Respectful, yet exceptionally hot. But the spice is going to play a role.”
“Then that’s all the media will focus on.”
She shrugs. “Maybe. But it will get people talking, which will get them watching, which, in return will have them learn the real story. Isn’t that what you want?”
What I want is for Sidney to be respected. To be adored.
Sophia reaches out, brushing her fingers over my wrist laying against the armrest of my chair. “Trust me.”
I clench my jaw.
She’s still flirting. Still attempting to get in my pants even though the entire reason she’s here is because of the unbreakable devotion I have for my fiancée.
This is why I’ll never be with anyone other than Sid. Women like Sophia don’t know me. All they see is the fame and money. They want to fuck a status symbol.
At one time, the easy pussy was a gift. Now, it gives me hives.
“Sophia,” I warn. “If you don’t get your hand off me, we’re done here.”
She sighs and slinks back into her chair. “You’ve made it clear that this movie is all for Sid, but is the whole don’t-be-friendly-with-me attitude because of her, too? Is she the super-jealous type?”
“You’re skating on thin ice,” I grate.
“It’s a legitimate question. I need to know what sort of people you are.”
“Then let me make it crystal that whatever attitude you think you’re getting is all me, sugar.” Sid doesn’t do jealousy. Instead, she lives in a world of insecurities. She might think I don’t notice, but I do. I notice all the things she tries to hide. “I haven’t been the playboy rock star in almost two years. There’re no groupies. I don’t pretend I want to fuck people to win hearts or gain publicity. I’m one hundred percent off the market, and I want everyone to know that.”
Sophia focuses on her notepad, her expression tight. “I told you I’m only being friendly. It’s who I am. But I’ll try to rein it in if you’re uncomfortable.”
“I am.”
“Fine.” She inclines her head. “Tell me about the Grammy’s. How did the three of you end up alone together?”
My pulse increases.
We’d been at the rooftop after-party. Sid was dancing with Sean, her dress clinging to every heavenly curve of her body as she swirled in her sexy black heels.
“We were celebrating along with everyone else. Drinking. Laughing. I’d never been around her when she was tipsy and it was fucking glorious. For the first time, her professionalism not only slipped, but vanished. She was teasing. Seducing. Every word out of her pretty little mouth made me hard. Which is why I invited her back to my hotel room.”
“Sean, too?”
“No. The prick invited himself like a fucking world champion cock-blocker. He was too drunk to realize I was making a move.”
Sophia grins. “Then what happened?”
“One coy comment turned into another and all of a sudden, the three of us were in bed.”
She nods, encouraging me to continue, but this isn’t easy. The reminder of that night is enough to make me painfully hard and sickeningly repentant at the same time.
“Can you remember some of the things you said to her?” she prods. “It would be good for authenticity.”
“I think Sean made a comment about her drenching his fingers because I became fucking livid that his hand was where my dick wanted to be. Other than that, I just remember telling her how beautiful she—”
“How did you tell her exactly?” She cuts me off. “Can you say it word for word so I know exactly how to write it? Pretend I’m her.”
The hair on the back of my neck rises.
Is she itching for a sound bite? For ammunition?
I narrow my stare. “It doesn’t need to be exact. As long as you encompass how, in that moment, Sidney was everything to me. I knew without a doubt she was my future.”
She takes more notes, not pushing my paranoia. “Go on. What else happened?”
“I gripped her hair and told her to keep looking at me while her mouth was around my dick and Sean was fucking her.” I suppress a cringe. This is weird. “But you can learn all this from any porn site.”
She raises her gaze with wide-eyed innocence that’s too exaggerated to be real. “The video is still available?”
She knows it is. I’m sure all my fans do.
“For months, I fought hard to keep it offline. I thought I was getting somewhere, too. Then a tidal wave of uploads made it impossible. It’s like playing Whack-A-Mole. I pay a firm to send take-down notices, but it’s useless. As soon as one gets removed another five are uploaded. There’s no getting rid of it.”
“So, you want me to watch it…” she hedges. “…instead of getting your account of what happened?”
“I’m sure you’ve already indulged more than once.”
She gives a sly grin. “For research purposes when the scandal first broke. But not since.”
Liar.
The glow in her cheeks says otherwise. I bet she’s remembering exactly what Sean’s dick looked like as he railed Sid.
“The recording was my fault, too, by the way. I want to make that perfectly clear, both now and in the movie.” Guilt edges its way into my gut. “I thought that if the sex was going to be a one-time event, and Sid wanted to return to our professional working relationship, I had to have a memento of what we shared. So, I recorded it. With her permission. But still…” I shrug.
“I’ll make sure I get that part right in the manuscript. I’ll even forward you the scene as soon as it’s written if you like.”
I nod.
“And is it true your phone was hacked? Was that how the video was obtained?”
“No. It was stolen. Someone broke into my Manhattan apartment, took my cell, and released the footage.”
She frowns. “But I thought Sean and Sidney held you accountable.”
I keep my mouth shut, still despising the intricacies of my mistake even though it’s dead and buried.
“How hard was it to explain that your phone was gone and the video potentially at large?” she continues. “Were you apologetic even though you were the target of a crime? Was there an argument? A screaming match?”
“Their reactions were justified.” I rest my hands on the table, my focus on my fingers as I pick at the quick of my thumb. “Back then I was a self-centered asshole, which meant they assumed I uploaded the content as a publicity stunt.”